If we’re friends on facebook, you know that I am just over this whole waiting thing.

I’m done. 

I’m ready to have S home. I’m ready for the boys to play with their sister instead of pretending to drive to Africa on their bikes to visit her. I’m ready to watch her grow up here in our home, instead of through photos {and, yes, the photos are treasures, little glimpses into her world…but, they are not substitute for the real thing}. I’m ready to ensure her belly is full of healthy food that will give her nourishment. I’m ready to hear her laugh. I’m ready to teach her new things. I’m ready to learn how she likes to sleep {ben has to be surrounded by his stuffed animals and holding onto two – very precise- tags on his blankets & nate likes to hold all three of his babies and be covered up with his blanket from grandma marrs with two others at his feet. they’re hilarious}. I’m ready to hold her and rock her to sleep. I’m ready to see her wearing the cute little outfits hanging in her closet. I’m ready to get to know her and her personality. I’m ready to hear her cry and learn what soothes her. I’m ready to teach her new words. I’m ready to show her the love of a family. I’m just ready, already.

All of it. The good, the bad and the ugly. I’m ready.

I shared this photo on facebook and received so many words of encouragement from loved ones. Many who have been here, smack dab in the middle of this tormenting wait, who understand the pain and the urgency and the tears.

I had a friend {who is in south africa right now to bring home their son!!}, share these wise words:

What a poignant reminder of the work God is doing in my heart during this wait. A reminder that the dark nights of grieving and fear pressing down on me, attempting to crush my hope and trust; always give way to the light of the morning. The light that was purchased at such a high cost on a cross so many years ago. The light of His righteousness.

so, you guys, dave and i are in the midst of an intense battle with our mailman.

i feel like i’m living in an episode of Seinfeld {instead of the soup nazi, he is the mail nazi}. today, i actually ran after him, literally chasing him down the road like a complete lunatic as he drove away in his little postal truck, ignoring me.

my sister in law lives next door to us. each day, we keep watch for the mailman to arrive. she tells me when he is leaving her house and i wait on his next move. 9 out of 10 times, he drives right past our house and doesn’t look in our direction. he hasn’t delivered our mail consistently in months.

this is all incredibly ridiculous {and just annoying}. i have to load the boys up in the car every few days and drive to the post office, unload them and go wait in line to pick up our mail and try to talk to the postmaster. he agrees to talk with the postman and to reinstate our mail delivery and we leave {likely due to the damage being inflicted on the post office by my rowdy boys. this is the only time that i completely ignore their bad behavior. i want that post office to see what sort of crazy they are dealing with. i want to remind them that they do not want me and the boys in that place every few days}.

we repeat the whole scenario again a few days later when our mail delivery abruptly stops again. for the love.

you must be wondering why on earth is all of this happening.

well, it all started with this fence.

and this {10-year-old} dog.

and, the time dave forgot to close the gate behind him when he left for the day. da da dunn…

bailey’s arch-enemy is the mailman. he barks ferociously {as ferociously as a 10-year-old sheltie can} whenever that little mail truck drives up. and, the one stinkin’ time the gate was open, he chased after that poor mailman. now, here we are. front and center on the mailman’s black list. we our public enemy #1.

I share this silly ongoing mail saga because it is a crazy reminder of the real warfare happening in our lives — the spiritual battles relentlessly attacking our family. this week alone: dave fell off a ladder cracking ribs and fracturing his wrist, he backed into a car with his truck, and, today, another major setback in our adoption progress — we found out that all of the court documents associated with our case need to be corrected. a major change to each and every document that now leaves us facing extended time frames before we can begin the US immigration stage of our process. the unknowns of the long-term impact of this mistake aren’t clear just yet but there is little doubt that our case will take longer than usual to process.

we are weary of the fight. our muscles are aching. our bodies are tired. our souls are longing for rest.

the lyrics of the song “worn” are so fitting…

I’m tired 
I’m worn 
My heart is heavy
From the work it takes to keep on breathing

I know I need 
To lift my eyes up
But I’m too week
Life just won’t let up
And I know that You can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left

I want to know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause I’m worn

And my prayers are wearing thin
I’m worn even before the day begins
I’m worn I’ve lost my will to fight
I’m worn so heaven so come and flood my eyes

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart that’s frail and torn

i don’t know what is to come but i do know that i’ll continue to wear my armor. i’ll continue to seek the One who knows what is coming. the One who isn’t the least bit surprised by the latest bump in the road. the One who is bigger and greater and mightier than all of these troubles. i’ll seek rest in Him alone. and, i’ll continue to pray that He is glorified in all that we endure on this journey. all of it — the desperate moments of suffering and the joyful moments of rejoicing in praise. He will not forsake us. He did not bring us this far to leave us now. i place my trust in Him alone.